


The First and Only, or, There Are No Miracles at Christmas

by KJaneway115



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Episode: s07e11 Shattered, Eventual Romance, F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJaneway115/pseuds/KJaneway115
Summary: A year and a half after Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, Janeway and Chakotay reconsider their lives and their choices when faced with memories of Christmases past.  My annual Christmas gift to all my readers, especially my fellow VAMBies.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	The First and Only, or, There Are No Miracles at Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to all. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my works and support my writing. Special thanks to my fellow VAMBies who give me so much encouragement, and most especially, Mizvoy, for being the best editor/beta ever.

The San Francisco cafe buzzed with the murmur of conversations, the sounds of forks clanking and scraping against plates as the patrons ate delicious deserts, and the low hum of familiar holiday music playing in the background. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on your troubles will be out of sight.” Twinkling colored lights adorned the Night Owl’s windows, and in one corner, a well-decorated Christmas tree sparkled and glistened.

Captain Kathryn Janeway, sitting alone at her favorite table, sipped her black coffee. She was supposed to be feeling something, she thought. She was supposed to feel cheerful and festive. But when she searched her feelings, she discovered that she felt nothing different than she had the month before. At the very least, she thought, she should be feeling sad, or melancholy, but she didn’t even feel that.

At the table across from her, a mother leaned over, peering at her daughter’s PADD. “If you have three pies, and each pie is cut into four pieces, and you have four children who each want some pie, how many pieces of pie does each child get?” 

The little girl, who Janeway guessed was about six, looked across the table at her mother in frustration. “I don’t know!” 

“Really?” her mother asked. “Are you sure?” 

The girl pouted stubbornly, her dark eyes scrunching up. The mother sighed and then proceeded to take three pieces of chocolate from her purse. She laid them on a napkin in front of her daughter and then repeated the question, complete with a visual aide. Janeway smiled as the little girl started to understand and then finally came up with the correct answer.

At another table, an elderly man sat across from his wife. She had seen the couple in the Night Owl many times. They were both retired Starfleet Academy professors, and they loved to come to the Night Owl in the evenings. They sat across from each other in comfortable silence, he reading a book, and she studying a PADD. Each had a half-eaten dessert in front of them, and from time to time, they would look up from their reading to take a bite. The woman would occasionally dig her fork into the man’s piece of pie, too, but Kathryn observed that he pretended not to notice.

At another table, two Academy cadets were engaged in a game of chess. Janeway couldn’t be sure, but she thought, from their similarity in appearance, that they must be brothers, or at least cousins. While they appeared to have a friendly competition going on, they also laughed and joked with each other as they played.

Somehow everyone else in the cafe seemed to have something of the holiday spirit about them. They seemed to feel that holiday cheer that she herself was lacking. She watched the elderly woman slyly steal another bite of her husband’s dessert, and saw him look up at his wife with a wink. The little girl hugged her mother in joy as she discovered the answer to another math problem. The two cadets playing chess laughed uproariously at something that had transpired between them. Somehow, it seemed that everyone in the cafe belonged.

It wasn’t a feeling that Janeway shared.

Kathryn Janeway had always stood out in a crowd. Even as a child, she had not quite fit in with her peers. She’d chosen to stay home and study instead of going to parties with her girlfriends. She’d practiced Parrises Squares or buried her nose in her books when boys had asked her out on dates. Although she had always had a strong sense of self and a healthy amount of self-confidence, she had never truly felt like she belonged. And since _Voyager_ had returned from the Delta Quadrant, this had felt more true than ever.

She felt like a person out of time, out of place. She didn’t quite fit in at Starfleet anymore, if she ever had to begin with. She’d always been a little bit of a maverick, a wild card. It was why she’d been the one assigned to captain _Voyager_ and capture Chakotay. It was also what made Starfleet so uncertain about what to do with her now.

Several of her friends from before _Voyager_ ’s disappearance had been killed during the Dominion War. Those that were left had moved on with their lives. They had married or had children, significantly advanced or shifted their careers, moved to new places. Although she had learned and accomplished a great deal in the Delta Quadrant from a certain perspective, in another way, she had been standing still. She had no significant relationships to speak of, no family of her own, and her career had not moved or changed for seven years. Now, she was home where everything and everyone seemed to have moved forward except for her. She didn’t know where she should go next or what she should do. Nothing had quite worked out the way she had hoped.

While _Voyager_ ’s return hadn’t been a complete failure, it hadn’t exactly been an unmitigated success, either. Despite Janeway’s best efforts, the Maquis crew had not been granted their field commissions. They hadn’t been arrested or put in prison or extradited to Cardassia, which had been her worst nightmare, but they hadn’t been allowed to remain in Starfleet either. Kathryn considered this the biggest failure of her career. No matter what she’d said or how hard she’d tried, her arguments seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

She felt ashamed of herself, that she had not been able to do more for those who had served her so faithfully in the Delta Quadrant, now that they were back in the Alpha Quadrant. She wondered what the point had been of all that they had done if Starfleet refused to recognize or reward it. It didn’t particularly inspire her to want to continue her own Starfleet career, but she hadn’t been able to figure out what else she would want to do. Starfleet had been her whole life; she had dedicated everything to it. She didn’t want to throw away over twenty years of her life, and that’s what it seemed like she’d be doing if she walked away now. 

Every choice she’d made for seven years had been determined by the welfare of her crew. Since _Voyager_ ’s return, she didn’t know how to decide what she should do next. _Voyager_ and her crew had been her whole world for so long, and now they were gone.

She thought back to the Kathryn Janeway who’d set out, over eight years earlier, to look for her missing security officer and a dangerous Maquis captain. That Kathryn had been full of hope about the future. That Kathryn was excited by the prospect of her new ship and crew. That Kathryn had thought she was going on a three-week mission to the Badlands, after which she would return to her fiance and her house and her dog and await Starfleet’s next orders. But none of those things had happened, and the Kathryn Janeway that sipped her coffee today in the Night Owl was not like that Kathryn who had set out on that mission at Deep Space Nine all those years ago. 

She wondered if it was possible, after all that had happened, to go back to being a person who believed that the best was yet to come. She remembered a recent conversation with her ever optimistic mother. “I’m sure this year ahead is going to be the best one yet, Katie,” Gretchen had said with a smile. Kathryn knew better than to argue openly with her mother, but in her mind, she had laughed. Every time over the past eight years that she had believed things were about to get better, she had been severely disappointed.

In the Delta Quadrant, she had learned to put one foot in front of the other, to look straight ahead and keep going, regardless of how she felt, regardless of what she wanted, regardless of the way she wished things could be. The hope she’d felt at the start of their journey had been beaten out of her by constant betrayals, from Gath and the Sikarians, to Seska, to Arturis, to Ransom, to thousands of other little betrayals along the way. Every time she’d allowed herself to feel hope, she’d been hurt. So she’d learned not to hope. Maybe this was why she was having such a hard time getting into the holiday spirit. Christmas was supposed to be a time of hope and joy, but she didn’t feel much of either one these days.

She had allowed herself to hope, for a few brief moments, that once she was home, free of the strain of being solely responsible for 150 lives, that she would be able to pursue relationships she had dreamed about in the privacy of her dark room at night, that her career would skyrocket because of all her accomplishments and hard work in the Delta Quadrant, that her crew would be rewarded and recognized for all they had done. But she had learned in the past year and a half that this was just another false hope. There were some things that were better now that she was home. She could see her mother and sister. She had reconnected with a few old friends. She had Starfleet to fall back on. But many things had not changed. Every day remained about putting one foot in front of the other, regardless of how she felt or what she wanted. She was just as alone as she had ever been. 

“Joy to the world,” rang out through the cafe’s speakers, and Kathryn grimaced.

It wasn’t that she was stingy. She’d sent out holiday messages to friends, family, and her former crew. They didn’t all celebrate Christmas, of course, but she felt it was important to reach out. _Voyager_ ’s crew was now scattered to the corners of the galaxy, and she felt it was important that they know their former captain was thinking of them, even though, in some cases, Starfleet was not. She’d even arranged for a week of leave to spend time with her mother and sister in Indiana.

But it still didn’t feel like Christmas. Instead, it felt like something was missing, like there was a gaping hole somewhere in her life. Knowing this would have made her sad at one time, but now it was simply a fact that she had to accept like any other fact. Like the fact of _Voyager_ ’s decommission, the fact that the former Maquis were no longer in Starfleet, the fact she was sitting alone in a cafe drinking coffee that was slowly getting cold a week before Christmas. These were all just facts to be accepted. Feelings were, as Seven would say, irrelevant.

When she’d spoken to her mother the week before, her mother had reminded her with a twinkle in her eye, “Christmas is a time of miracles, Katie.” But what Kathryn knew and didn’t have the heart to tell her mother was that miracles didn’t exist, at least not for Kathryn Janeway.

* * *

“One week?” Chakotay asked, looking down at the PADD in his hand and then up again at his supervisor.

“Yes, son. I’m closing the whole site down for a week. Everyone could use the time off,” said Dr. Browning in his jovial baritone voice. “Even you, young man.”

Despite his feelings of annoyance, Chakotay couldn’t help but smile. Until Dr. Browning, no one had called him a young man for many years, but he supposed, compared to the doctor, who was over 100, he still was. “But we’re so close,” he protested.

“Everything that’s in the ground today will still be there after Christmas,” Browning replied. “That’s the nice thing about artifacts. They don’t go anywhere.” Browning paused for a moment, studying Chakotay with his bright blue eyes, eyes that showed the old man was still sharp in spite of his advanced age. “Don’t you have anyone you’d like to visit? Any friends? Maybe someone from your former crew on _Voyager_?”

Chakotay thought about it. It would be nice to see B’Elanna. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“Or if you really don’t want to see anyone you know, go spend a week on Risa and enjoy the sights, if you know what I mean.” Chuckling, the doctor elbowed Chakotay in the ribs and looked at him with a glint in his eye. “I’m too old for that sort of thing, but you could still enjoy a vacation on Risa.”

“I don’t think that’s really my style. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“You know, Chakotay, if you don’t have anywhere to go for Christmas, Elizabeth and I would always welcome you at our table. It’s a little crazy with all the grandkids and the great-grandkids running around, but I can guarantee you won’t be bored.” 

“Thanks for the invitation, Doc, but I’ll leave you to your family celebration.”

“I know you don’t have much family of your own anymore, son, and that you’re not very close with your cousin in Ohio. But you’ve become like family to me and Elizabeth. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Chakotay laughed. “You know I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Browning gave him a long, penetrating look. “You did on _Voyager_ , at least according to your own stories.”

“Yes, well, that was a unique situation.”

“I think you miss that crew more than you care to admit,” Browning said shrewdly. “Especially a certain captain. Maybe you should go visit her.”

“Thanks for the advice, Doc, but I don’t think you really understand the situation.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly fine. Don’t forget I’ve lived almost twice as long as you and I’ve seen plenty of relationships in my time.” He paused. “I won’t push you, Chakotay. Do what you want. But we are taking the time off and the site will be closed, so I’d strongly suggest you find somewhere to go.”

“I will, Doctor.”

“Okay, good.” Browning caught sight of something in his bag. “Oh, I almost forgot. Elizabeth baked some cookies last night. She sent these for you.” He handed Chakotay a beautifully wrapped package.

“Please tell her thank you from me.”

“I will.” Browning picked up his things and got ready to leave. “Don’t forget, Chakotay. Miracles happen at Christmastime.”

Chakotay tried not to roll his eyes and made himself smile. He knew Browning meant well. He wished his supervisor a Merry Christmas, then collected his belongings from his locker and headed back to his apartment.

Chakotay's apartment on Marlonia was small and simple. When he had joined Dr. Browning’s team, he had been very clear that he didn’t need anything elaborate or fancy. He didn’t want to waste resources. After all, he had told Browning’s secretary, he had lived for seven years on a starship in the Delta Quadrant in one set of small quarters, sometimes going for days at a time on nothing but emergency rations. He certainly didn’t need a luxury apartment on Marlonia. So, even though he was one of the most experienced and senior members of Browning’s archaeology team, his lodgings were the most simple and sparse. His one-room apartment contained the furniture he needed: a bed, a desk, a small sofa. In one corner was a kitchenette where he cooked most of his meals from scratch; he preferred this to replicated food. The kitchen was separated from the rest of the apartment by a tall countertop with two stools. He sat on one of them to eat. The second stool remained empty.

After putting away his coat and other things, Chakotay took the package from Dr. Browning into the kitchen and opened it. Inside were a variety of holiday treats that Elizabeth had no doubt made from scratch. His stomach grumbled from hunger, and he decided there couldn’t be any harm in eating just one cookie before dinner. He chose one and took a bite. It was delicious, and its chocolate caramel flavor reminded him of Kathryn Janeway’s favorite dessert, her mother’s chocolate caramel brownies. She’d saved her replicator rations for days, sometimes even giving up a cup of coffee, to replicate those brownies each year around the holidays. Sharing a brownie and a cup of hot, mulled wine had become a tradition that they had shared ever since their first year aboard _Voyager_ , when she had discovered he had never celebrated Christmas before.

“All those years in Starfleet and you never celebrated Christmas?” she’d asked. He’d explained to her that at the Academy he’d been too focused on his studies, too afraid of falling behind, of his advisors discovering he was, in fact, a year younger than his Academy application claimed. He mostly kept to himself, having grown up in something of a backwater colony and knowing he was different enough from his classmates as it was. He knew that the more time he spent with others, the more likely someone would discover just how different he really was, so he declined offers from classmates to attend Christmas parties. Once in Starfleet, those opportunities disappeared, as it was not generally Starfleet policy to celebrate holidays on board ship. And in the Maquis, most of his colleagues didn’t celebrate Christmas, either. Even if they had, there’d been no time for fun and games.

On _Voyager_ , though, things had been different. Kathryn Janeway, while not a religious person, enjoyed a good celebration, and had grown up celebrating Christmas with her family. When Neelix discovered the holiday in the computer database, he had immediately decided that another holiday celebration in addition to Prixin would be a great boost to morale for the crew. So he had asked the captain’s permission to throw a Christmas party, and she had readily agreed. Chakotay attended that first year at Kathryn’s insistence and surprised himself by enjoying it thoroughly. After the party, she had invited him back to her quarters for caramel brownies and mulled wine, and thus, their tradition had been born.

Thinking back on those times now was bittersweet. He hadn’t spoken to Kathryn Janeway in over a year. Their last conversation had been when she had come to tell him that Starfleet had refused to grant the Maquis their field commissions. _Voyager_ had been home for about four months at that point, and he knew Kathryn had been fighting the brass tirelessly since _Voyager_ had docked at Utopia Planetia. He had tried to assure her that it was all right, that they would all be okay, that they had plenty of other opportunities to explore, but his words had fallen on deaf ears. He knew her expression, knew her demeanor, knew she felt that she had failed. He had wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he felt that the three feet between them in his temporary quarters at Starfleet Headquarters were the length of a giant chasm. Just before she left the room, she turned back to him. “Oh,” she said, trying too hard to sound casual, “I heard about your relationship with Seven. All the best to both of you, Chakotay.” And then she had walked out.

Two weeks later, when he and Seven had ended their brief relationship, he had reached out to her, asking if she had time to meet him for coffee. She had never responded. He knew that he had hurt her deeply, that she would see his relationship with Seven as some kind of personal betrayal, even though he had never intended it that way. Kathryn held a grudge better than most people he knew, and, not only that, he knew she was still hurting from her failure to get him and the other Maquis their field commissions. 

He clenched his fists as he walked over to the large glass door that led to his apartment’s balcony. The Marlonian sun had just set, and the horizon was turning purple as a cool breeze rustled the leaves of the trees below his third-floor balcony. Kathryn wasn’t the only one who had been hurt.

When he thought back, now, over their seven years together, he could think of many wonderful moments. In fact, the good times that he had shared with Kathryn were the happiest moments of his life, from meals shared, to moonlit sails on Lake George, to shuttle missions that had allowed the two of them to escape together, to deep conversations over wine late at night in one of their quarters, to a night long ago on a faraway planet when he had almost kissed her, to their annual tradition of sharing mulled wine and a caramel brownie on Christmas Eve. When he thought back on these moments now, he felt his heart constrict in his chest. They had been the most wonderful moments of his life, but they had come at a price.

He could not count the number of times Kathryn had hurt him. He understood it. Often, she was doing what she felt was best for the ship and crew. His personal feelings just didn’t factor into the equation for her. He understood why they couldn’t, and so he had silently accepted the pain. He had told himself that the joyful, perfect moments were worth this price, that suffering was a part of love, that nothing worthwhile came easily. The connection that he felt with Kathryn was like none he had ever felt in his life. It was why he had laid down his phaser and been ready to sacrifice his life and his ship for her just hours after meeting her. He had known that what was between them was deep and spiritual and real. He had held onto this truth for as long as he could. But finally, he realized that no matter how real and deep their connection was, she would never acknowledge it or place the value on it that he did.

_It was the night after the ship had been shattered into several timeframes when he realized it. He had gone to her quarters. They’d drank the rest of his Antarian cider. Halfway through the second bottle of cider, his tongue had loosened a bit. They were laughing and talking. It felt as though Ransom and the Equinox and Teero had never happened; they were flirting like they hadn’t done in years._

_She asked about the deflector dish for the second time. He was tempted to tell her. “Come on, Chakotay!”_

_“Don’t you trust me?” he joked playfully._

_“Of course I do. I just want to know.”_

_He shook his head, recalling her younger counterpart wanting to know about a lot of things, too. “You always trusted me, Kathryn,” he said. “Even when you didn’t know me.”_

_She gave him a confused look. “Now I think you’ve had too much to drink.”_

_He laughed. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”_

_If she was surprised by the turn in the conversation from joking to serious, she didn’t show it. “I respect that many cultures have those beliefs,” she said, “but I don’t share them.”_

_“My people believe that if a person’s soul does not become complete, or fails to successfully traverse a part of the path of life, then it will be sent back to live again until it is truly complete and fulfilled. When a person dies, their soul remains next to their body until the community performs the Feast of the Dead. This celebration frees the soul to be reborn.”_

_“Do you believe that?” she’d asked him._

_“I don’t know,” he’d replied honestly. “But I do think that there’s more to this life than our physical bodies. I believe in some kind of soul. And I believe that when we are truly connected to one another, it is our souls that speak to each other.” He’d glanced up at her. “Like you and I.”_

_She’d grown very still. “What do you mean?”_

_“I believe that in any time, in any place, our souls would have connected. That’s what I realized today. Even if we’d met somewhere else, some other time, some other place, under other circumstances, it wouldn’t have mattered. We still would have trusted each other. We still would have become friends. Our souls would still have spoken to each other.”_

_“Yes,” she’d replied quietly. “Friends.”_

_“Kathryn, I know a lot has happened. We’ve both been disappointed. We’ve both been hurt, many times. But I want you to know that nothing has changed for me. I told you years ago, when you found out Mark had moved on, that I would wait as long as you needed me to. I told you then that you’re it for me. That hasn’t changed. I know there have been many things that we’ve gone through, other relationships, other people, tough times. I know there will be many more. But you are the first and only choice of my soul.”_

_She hadn’t replied. He’d started to wonder if he’d made a mistake, if the alcohol had dulled his brain. But when he searched his feelings, he found that he didn’t regret what he had said. It was the truth, a truth that had waited far too long to be spoken. She stood up and walked to the window. Finally, she turned back to him. “I can’t accept that, Chakotay. I value you as a friend and a colleague. I always will. But I cannot take on any more than that.” She suddenly sounded very tired. “I just… can’t.” Her voice broke, and he wanted to go to her, to hold her. He stood, but his feet seemed glued to the floor. “I’m sorry,” she sai_ d.

_Her words were like a punch in the gut, a punch he’d been entirely unprepared for. He had expected a, “But who knows if circumstances will ever change?” and then a reluctant acceptance of what he offered, not outright rejection. “I see,” he’d said, his voice sounding hollow in his own ears. “Well, goodnight.” He’d turned and left before anything else could be said, and walked back to his quarters in a daze._

After that night, he’d thought maybe he’d been wrong, that maybe the connection they’d shared hadn’t been so deep or real, after all, and when Seven had approached him, interested in dating, he’d welcomed the distraction.

But his relationship with Seven had been just that, a distraction, and it had only taken them a few months to figure out that that’s what it was for both of them. Unlike Chakotay, Seven had been eagerly accepted into Starfleet, and she now worked at the prestigious Daystrom Institute. The last time Chakotay had spoken to her, she’d told him shyly that she was seeing a young physicist who worked with her.

Chakotay had taken the opportunity to join the archaeological expedition on Marlonia the moment it had been offered. Dr. James Browning was a well-known archaeologist and the expedition at Marlonia was in the process of uncovering some important findings. He enjoyed the work, and Marlonia was a beautiful place. But his life was lonely, and on the lonely nights in his apartment, when he cooked dinner for one, lit a candle and sat down to read a book with his cup of tea, he longed desperately to look up at the sofa beside him and see auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. He’d received a brief holiday message from Kathryn, but it was clearly a form letter that was sent out to every former member of her crew. He missed their conversations, their banter, their laughter. He’d even settle for an argument. He missed Kathryn Janeway and he wanted her back in his life.

* * *

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” a jolly voice sang through a nearby speaker as Kathryn walked through San Francisco’s shopping district. It never snowed in San Francisco, but it was chilly enough for her to need a coat and a scarf, and she pulled her soft, white scarf a little bit tighter around her neck as she turned the corner and a gust of wind hit her in the face.

She still needed to find a gift for her sister. She was looking for just the right thing, something special that showed how much she valued their bond. There was one thing she did enjoy and appreciate about being home, and that had been reconnecting with her sister. Although the two Janeway girls were quite different, they had always been close and had always served as each others’ sounding board and confidant.

There was a jewelry store she had passed on her walks to and from the Night Owl where everything was handmade by local artisans. She thought this would be a place to find something special for Phoebe.

The store was warm and well-lit, and it had a friendly atmosphere. Kathryn was greeted by the clerk immediately. “Can I help you, ma’am?” 

“No, thank you. I’ll just look around.”

“Just let me know if you have any questions,” the young woman said, smiling.

Kathryn nodded and began to browse through the store. The windows were lined with white lights and the jewelry displays had been adorned with holiday decor. It didn’t take her long to find a silver bracelet that she knew Phoebe would love.

As she was walking up to the register, another piece caught her eye. It was a necklace hanging alone on a small display, a simple chain with a small, translucent crystal pendant. From one angle, you could barely see the pendant at all, but if you moved just a little bit to one side or another, it seemed to sparkle and twinkle like a star in the sky. Kathryn had never seen anything like it. “What is this?” she asked the clerk.

“It’s an Aurelian gemstone. The Aurelians call it _Shaleophin_ , which roughly translates to ‘star stone’ in English. It’s extremely rare.” 

“I can see why they call it that,” Janeway said. “It almost looks like a star on a necklace.”

“Yes, it’s very special. The young woman’s dark eyes looked from the necklace back to Janeway. “Would you like to try it on? It would suit you.”

For a moment, Janeway was tempted. It was a beautiful necklace. But when would she wear it? She hardly ever went to fancy parties. There was nothing practical or necessary about the necklace, and she really didn’t need it. “No, thank you,” she told the young woman. “I’ll just take this bracelet for my sister.”

As Janeway was leaving the store, she turned to glance back at the necklace one more time, then scolded herself for being silly. As she walked out the door of the boutique, she froze as a figure on the corner caught her eye. The man’s gait, his hair cut, his demeanor were so familiar, she’d know them anywhere. Without pausing to think about it, she began to run towards him. “Chakotay!” she called across the crowded sidewalk.

But when she reached the corner, the man she’d thought she’d seen was nowhere to be found. She shook her head, scolding herself. She knew that Chakotay was lightyears away on Marlonia. He had joined a private archaeological team that was in the middle of an important dig there. He wasn’t anywhere near San Francisco. The man she had seen must have resembled him in some way, and her imagination had supplied the familiar gate and manner. Still, she had been sure, for a moment, that it had been him. She took one more good look around the street, but the figures she saw around her were all strangers. None of them even resembled Chakotay.

She admonished herself once again as she started to walk back to her apartment. Ever since her mother had come by over the weekend and brought some freshly baked caramel brownies, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Chakotay. The taste of the brownie combined with the time of year had immediately brought up memories of their Christmas tradition of sharing caramel brownies and mulled wine after the _Voyager_ Christmas celebration.

She knew she had hurt Chakotay badly. She knew that she had pushed him away. But at the time, she’d felt like she had no choice. He was wasting his life and his own chance at happiness by waiting for her. She had realized by that time that _Voyager_ might never get home, and she knew herself, knew that she would never choose to explore her feelings for him as long as they were stranded in the Delta Quadrant.

Her feelings for him. Only now, with time and distance, could she admit the truth. When she’d first met Chakotay, there’d been an immediate spark between them, an unspoken attraction that they expressed only in innocent flirtation. But there was something beyond a physical attraction. He’d been right, that night in her quarters, when he said their souls knew how to speak to each other. Why else would she have trusted him so immediately? He’d been a known criminal, a traitor to Starfleet. Yet from the first moment they’d met, she’d known she could trust him, and over time, she’d grown to feel much more than trust.

She resisted her feelings for him at first because she was an engaged woman who still had hope that she would get home to her fiance. After Mark had told her that he’d moved on, Chakotay had assured her that he would give her all the time that she needed. There had been times when she’d been on the verge of breaking down, letting him in, agreeing to see where things went between them. But the ship and the crew had always had to take priority. In the end, there was no time for a relationship, and Chakotay understood this. He had supported her as best he could, and from a distance when he had to. She realized now that on the night when she had put the final nail in the coffin of her relationship, he had only been trying to put into words what he had always known was true.

_“I know there have been many things that we’ve gone through, other relationships, other people, tough times. I know there will be many more. But you are the first and only choice of my soul.”_

She understood his meaning only now that he was gone from her life. He hadn’t been asking her for something; he’d been trying to give her something, and she had turned him down, rejected him outright. She remembered what he had said about his people’s beliefs about reincarnation, that if a soul remained incomplete, that it would be sent back to live another life. She knew, only now, what he had been talking about, because since he had been gone from her life, her soul had been missing a piece.

She’d had several relationships in her life, and two fiances, but while both Mark and Justin had touched her deeply in different ways, neither of them had become so intrinsically a part of her as Chakotay had. _The first and only choice of my soul_ , she thought, his words still echoing in her mind. _Too bad I understood it too late._

* * *

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” a jolly, recorded voice sang as Chakotay breathed in the damp, cool San Francisco air. He smiled. He hadn’t been in San Francisco in just over a year, since he had left to join Dr. Browning’s team. It had been just before the previous Christmas when he’d left, and as he’d been settling into his new job and new home on Marlonia, he’d nearly forgotten about the holidays altogether. This year was different. He found himself enjoying his stroll through San Francisco’s bustling streets, the piped in holiday music, the twinkling Christmas lights. The melancholy he’d felt over the past year seemed to be slowly melting away. 

He’d just arrived in San Francisco that morning. He knew that Kathryn was here and that she wouldn’t be taking her leave for the holidays until the next day, which was Christmas Eve. He was still unsure about how to approach her or what to say. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to see her at all. A part of him reminded himself that he was most likely just in for more heartache. You don’t know what she’s been up to for the past year, he reminded himself. Maybe she has a new relationship with a new man, and you’re just setting yourself up for more disappointment.

He froze in his tracks as he spotted the object of his thoughts at that very moment inside of a store. “Damn it!” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t prepared to see her now. Quickly, before she could feel his eyes on her, he ducked behind a lamppost. Surreptitiously, he peered around it, trying to get a glimpse of her, but she had moved behind a display, and he couldn’t see her. He had to get closer. Hiding amidst the people crowding the sidewalks, he made his way closer to the store. Taking advantage of his Maquis and tactics training, he forced himself to blend in with the crowd, so that even if Kathryn looked out the window, she wouldn’t know it was him. He walked casually past the store, keeping his eyes down, but still able to catch a glimpse of her. She looked beautiful, in a dark green coat with a white scarf wrapped around her neck. He found another lamppost to duck behind, but from this vantage point, he could easily see into the store. He watched as she smiled at a sales clerk, and they had a brief exchange. He realized she was looking at a piece of jewelry, a necklace, and watched as she admired it, her blue eyes big with wonder. Then he watched as the light in her eyes dimmed, and she turned away from the necklace. He knew this look. This was Kathryn giving up something she wanted because she needed to be practical or do the right thing. She checked out of the store with a small bag. He was so absorbed with watching her that he almost forgot that she might see him when she emerged from the boutique. Just as she opened the store’s door, he turned away. Fearing that she had seen him, he hurried around the corner. He thought he heard her voice call his name, but he didn’t stick around to find out, instead disappearing into the crowd and hurrying down a side street.

When he was sure that Kathryn hadn’t seen him and wasn’t following him, he stopped, leaning up against the stone wall of a building, his heart pounding in his chest. In all of San Francisco, with all of the streets and all of the shops, he had to run into Kathryn unexpectedly? He took a deep breath and shook it off. He’d have to be more careful. He was lucky that he’d spent years as a tactics expert for both Starfleet and the Maquis, and that he had run many undercover missions during that time. He took a long walk around the block, now on full alert for Janeway’s presence, but he did not see her again.

Finally, he made his way back to the jewelry boutique where he had seen her. The young woman who’d been talking to Kathryn was just closing up the shop. “Excuse me,” he said.

“We’re just closing up, sir,” the young woman said, putting away some of the jewelry behind the counter.

“I’ll be very quick,” he said. “I know exactly what I want.” The girl seemed reluctant to let him in. “It’s a very important Christmas gift. I’d really appreciate it if you had the time to help me.”

“Oh, all right,” she relented, glancing at her chronometer. “But be quick. I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend for dinner in fifteen minutes.”

Chakotay stepped in the door of the shop and went over to the display where he was sure he’d seen Kathryn looking at the necklace. But it wasn’t there. “Oh,” he said, disappointed. Perhaps his great plan was not so great, after all. 

The clerk glanced over at her visitor. He looked disappointed. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“There was a necklace here earlier. Someone bought it, didn’t they?”

“The _Shaleophin_ ,” the young woman said with a smile. “No, it’s still here. I just put it away behind the counter for the night. The owner doesn’t like us to leave things like that out over night.”

“You still have it?” Chakotay’s face lit up.

“Yes.” She rummaged around behind the counter and then took it out for him. “Here.” She held up the necklace and the pendant sparkled like a star in the sky. Chakotay could see why Kathryn had been taken with it. “There was a woman here earlier who really liked it,” the young woman said. “And I could see her wearing it, too, but she didn’t even want to try it on.”

“She probably felt like it was too extravagant for her,” Chakotay murmured, “or like she doesn’t deserve it.”

The young woman looked up at him curiously as she wrapped up the necklace for him. “You know her?”

Chakotay felt his face flush with embarrassment. “Um, no, no, I just imagine.”

The girl laughed. “Uh huh.” She finished wrapping the necklace in a long box with gold paper and a simple bow. “If it makes a difference, I think what you’re doing is very romantic. I’m sure she’s going to like it.”

Chakotay’s cheeks became even redder. “Uh, thanks.”

“Here you go,” the young woman said, handing him the package. “And Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you,” Chakotay replied, taking the package. “Merry Christmas,” he said to the girl as he left the store, and for the first time, he felt like it just might be.

* * *

On Christmas Eve morning, Kathryn woke up early. She was expected at her mother’s house by 10am, and it was three hours earlier in Bloomington, Indiana, than it was in San Francisco. So this meant getting up slightly earlier than her normal time of 0630 to shower, dress, and get all her packages organized. She took a hovercar to the local transporter station, not wanting to walk carrying all her packages, and beamed to her mother’s home in Bloomington. 

Unlike San Francisco, the ground in Bloomington was covered in snow. The old farm house was the same one she had grown up in, and even from outside the front door, she could smell the telltale scents of Christmas, the spices, the vegetable dishes and ham all ready to go in the oven, and of course the mulled wine already being assembled on the stovetop. She was greeted with enthusiastic hugs from her mother, her sister and Aunt Martha. She was instructed to put her presents under the tree and then ushered into the kitchen to help with the cooking. Her family knew better than to give her free reign in the kitchen, however, so she was given small and very specific tasks to do. All the ladies knew this fact and teased her mercilessly about it. But as long as there was a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, she didn’t really care.

The day was filled with cooking, setting tables, and plating cookies, all with festive music playing in the background. Kathryn had no time to be melancholy and couldn’t even get too annoyed with Aunt Martha for prying into her private life. “Aunt Martha, I told you, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“What about that handsome former first officer of yours? Or that helmsman? Admiral Paris’ son? What’s his name?”

“Aunt Martha, Chakotay has a job far away from here, on another planet,” Phoebe reminded her, coming to her sister’s rescue, “and Tom Paris is married!”

“Well, you know, I’ve read that in some cultures, that doesn’t stop a man,” Aunt Martha had said with a twinkle in her eye.

Kathryn and Phoebe had exchanged a glance with one another and rolled their eyes.

When the tables were set and the final dishes were in the oven, there was some quiet time for everyone to retreat into their rooms and get ready for the evening’s party. Ever since Kathryn and Phoebe were children, Gretchen Janeway had entertained friends and family on Christmas Eve with a lavish, but always home-cooked, dinner party. Even though her children were now grown and out of the house, she had continued the tradition, and this year would be no exception. Many of the guests had remained the same, too, except the couples that had been the “adults” back then were now quite elderly, and many of Kathryn’s peers now came with their own children.

Kathryn didn’t mind seeing old family friends. They were all nice people. After a year and a half in the Alpha Quadrant, she was accustomed to the questions about _Voyager_ and the Delta Quadrant, and knew off the top of her head which stories made polite and entertaining party conversation. She knew that she would spend most of the evening feeling like an outsider. When the men and women she had known since childhood started talking about their children, their homes, their yards, their hovercars, she knew she would have nothing to say. She was like the novelty piece of the evening, the one with the interesting stories that no one else had, the one who lived the exciting, adventurous life of a Starfleet captain. There would be one or two retired admirals, men who had been friends of her father, who were still invited with their wives and families. They were the ones she enjoyed talking to the most, because they had the greatest understanding of her life and all she had been through. They looked at her with knowing and sympathetic glances, as comrades in arms. This was preferable to the blank stares and polite smiles she received from some of her peers. But this didn’t upset her. She knew they just didn’t understand. Their lives had been so different from hers; there was no frame of reference to compare the two.

From her mother, Kathryn had learned at an early age how to play the perfect hostess. And even now, as the oldest daughter, she took it upon herself to be the first to clear the dishes from each course and help her mother serve the next one. She was polite and charming. Just think of it as a diplomatic function, she reminded herself. They cleaned as they went, and after so many years of the same process, Kathryn and Phoebe knew perfectly how to assist Gretchen. Even the seven years away had not dulled Kathryn’s proficiency as a Christmas Eve host.

The dinner was topped off with a lavish assortment of Christmas cookies and bars served with vanilla ice cream. Kathryn took one gingerly, but avoided the caramel brownies since she had successfully managed to avoid thinking about Chakotay all day and didn’t want to start again now.

After dessert, there were small gifts for the children to open, and watching them, Kathryn remembered that she had felt the same excitement at the prospect of a Christmas gift when she had been their age. Now, she was content to sit back and watch as they tore the wrapping paper and squealed in delight at some small puzzle or toy that Gretchen had arranged for them. Some of the guests had gifts for their hosts as well, and Kathryn received a pound of coffee and a box of artisan chocolates. As the evening drew to a close, those with the youngest children said goodnight first, and gradually everyone filtered out the door, calling “Merry Christmas!” as they trudged out into the snow.

Kathryn immediately went to work clearing dishes and cleaning up while her mother and sister changed into more comfortable clothes. She preferred to finish what needed to be done first. Aunt Martha turned in for the night, although not without a quip about how one of the retired admirals’ sons had had his eye on Kathryn all night. Kathryn thought about asking her why she never teased Phoebe about her love life, but then figured her sister would never forgive her for bringing this up and thought better of it. She wished Aunt Martha a good night and went back to cleaning.

Phoebe and Gretchen came down shortly and helped finish the dishes. “Well, that was a nice party,” Gretchen Janeway said. “Thank you girls, for all your help.”

“It’s our pleasure, Mom,” Kathryn replied.

“We’re always ready to eat and drink,” Phoebe added with her usual slightly cheeky humor.

The cleaning was done in record time, and Gretchen Janeway wiped her hands on a towel and looked around the kitchen, satisfied. “Well, I’m done in,” she said. “I’ll see you girls in the morning, but you know what they say. Don’t stay up too late or Santa won’t come.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and Phoebe laughed.

“Mom, you know there’s no such thing as,” Kathryn began.

“No, Katie!” her sister said, still laughing. “Don’t say it.”

Gretchen Janeway shook her head in mock disappointment. “First she tells me there’s no such thing as miracles and now she says there’s no such thing as Santa Claus. What kind of daughter did I raise?”

“A scientist, Mom,” Kathryn replied.

“All right,” Gretchen said, still striving to make her tone sound annoyed. “Well, stay up as late as you like, but don’t expect me to send any caramel brownies home with you if you keep that attitude. Phoebe, it’s your job to straighten her out.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Phoebe.

“Goodnight, Mom,” Kathryn said, hugging her mother. Phoebe also wished their mother goodnight, and Gretchen went upstairs to bed. Kathryn went into the living room to sit by the dying embers of the fire. 

Phoebe followed her and sat down next to her. “You okay, Katie?”

“Hm? Me? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Kathryn replied. “I had a nice time tonight.”

“Me, too,” said Phoebe, the second word morphing into a loud yawn. “I’m tired,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay. I’m going to stay up for a while, I think.”

“Goodnight, Katie.”

“Goodnight, Pheebs.”

The house was quiet except for the ticking of the grandfather clock when Phoebe had finally gone upstairs and Kathryn sat in the living room alone, on the couch next to the dying embers of the evening’s fire. She took a deep breath and took in the silence. After so many years aboard a starship, where the thrum of the warp engines provided constant background noise, she had learned to cherish these rare moments of silence. The lights on her mother’s tree twinkled, illuminating the different ornaments. Outside, the moon shone bright, its reflection off the blanket of white snow making it seem almost as light as day. 

Quietly, so she wouldn’t disturb anyone in the house, Kathryn opened the hallway coat closet and slipped on her mother’s warm winter coat over her little black party dress. She replaced her red high heels with winter boots. She snuck out the front door onto the porch and down the front steps. The snow crunched under her boots as she walked. The night sky was perfectly clear, the almost-full moon shining brightly above while the familiar stars twinkled around it. Ever since she was a girl, Kathryn had never been able to get enough of the night sky.

She walked down the driveway and onto the familiar road, past houses she had played in as a child. Some were dark now, their inhabitants having gone to spend Christmas elsewhere. Some were brightly decorated. Others were inhabited by people who didn’t celebrate Christmas at all and were just going about their normal evening, turning out lights to go to bed at this late hour, or staying up late reading or working.

In the quiet and the dark, the only discernible sounds were the crunching of her boots in the snow. The street was illuminated by a few street lamps and the light of the moon. Kathryn finally allowed herself the thoughts that she had purposefully avoided all day. It was Christmas Eve. She should be sharing a glass of mulled wine and a caramel brownie with Chakotay. They should be laughing and talking together, reviewing the day’s events or perhaps even reminiscing about years past. 

She did not know if she had made a mistake by keeping him at arm’s length on _Voyager_. She would never know what her life would be like had she made a different choice. She understood that she had done what she felt she had to at the time. But she felt that if she could go back now, she’d tell herself not to say those final hurtful words on that night when he had burned out the deflector dish. She knew why she’d done it. She’d done it to protect him, because she knew him, knew that he would keep on giving of himself, and she knew it was more than she deserved. She’d felt she had to stop it then and there, keep him from giving her any more than he already had. She had felt unable to take on the responsibility of his devotion.

But she hadn’t understood then what he was trying to say, and maybe, too, she hadn’t been ready to admit the depth of their connection. Two souls speaking to each other. Despite all their bitter disagreements and arguments over the years, it was true that she had never known anyone whose soul could hear hers as well as Chakotay’s. She wondered where he was now, if he had found someone to spend Christmas with on Marlonia, if he was perhaps even enjoying his Christmas Eve with another woman at this very moment. Although this prospect made her sad for herself, she genuinely hoped that he had found a way to be happy. She hoped that he had succeeded better than she had.

Her circle around the neighborhood brought her back around to her mother’s house, and as she approached, she noticed an unfamiliar hovercar in the driveway. Her senses immediately went to high alert, her Starfleet training kicking in. She reached for a phaser only to realize that there was none at her hip. She approached the vehicle cautiously, looking for its occupant. She saw him a moment later, standing on the other side of the car, looking right at her.

“You don’t need a phaser, Kathryn. At least, I hope it hasn’t come that.”

She blushed. He had obviously seen her gesture of alarm. “I guess that depends on what your intentions are.”

“Nothing hostile, Captain. I was hoping we might revive one of our old traditions.”

She approached him, trying to keep her steps measured, even though her legs seemed to want to carry her faster as she walked towards him. He was wearing a heavy coat and boots and a winter hat that just barely showed the slightly graying hair on his temples. She stepped in front of him, close enough that she could smell his familiar scent, and looked up into his eyes. “Chakotay,” she breathed.

“Kathryn.”

For a long moment, they stood there, their faces illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. They looked into each other’s eyes in silence, two souls speaking to each other.

It was Chakotay who broke the moment. “You’re shivering.”

His words brought Kathryn back to the present moment and the absurdity of it. “What are you doing here?” she asked

He chuckled. “I was hoping you were going to invite me in. But if not, I can get back in the car and go back to San Francisco.”

“No, no, please, come in. Just be quiet. Everyone else is asleep.”

Tiptoeing up the front porch and in the front door, she led him into the house. She motioned for him to join her in the hallway, where she opened the coat closet. She toed off her boots and hung up her coat, and he bent down to unlace his boots and hung his coat up, too. He was dressed smartly, in dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black blazer. In her stocking feet and still wearing her little black dress from dinner, she led him into the kitchen.

“Really, Chakotay, why are you here?” she asked, hands on hips.

“I came to see you. If you don’t want to see me, I’ll leave now.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean,” she said with a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t going the way she wanted it to.

Chakotay seemed to understand, and his tone softened. “I miss you, Kathryn, and I want you back in my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about our Christmas Eve tradition of sharing mulled wine and caramel brownies, and how much I wanted to share it with you again. Dr. Browning forced me to take a week off, and I realized there was nowhere I’d rather spend it than with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” 

“Honestly, I was afraid you’d tell me not to and I didn’t want to give you the chance.” Chakotay searched her face anxiously for some sign of acceptance, of a shared desire to rekindle their friendship, or at least share in their old tradition together one last time.

“I see,” she said. Then she allowed the smile she felt to creep into her eyes and the corners of her mouth. “Well, I just happen to have some mulled wine and caramel brownies right here.”

Chakotay grinned widely in response. She reached for two mugs from one of the cabinets and reheated the mulled wine while she found the container of caramel brownies and put a few on a small Christmas plate. “Is this the house you grew up in?” he asked as she busied herself with the dishes.

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s beautiful. It feels very homey.”

“My mother has lived here since I was a baby.” Kathryn paused. “It’s hard for me to imagine staying in one place that long.”

“I know what you mean. Still, it must’ve been nice for your father to have such a consistent and homey place to return to, and the same for you later on.”

“Yes, that’s true.” She checked the temperature of the wine and decided it needed to heat a little longer. “How have you been, Chakotay? How’s the dig?”

He told her about his work, speaking excitedly about the archaeological findings that were predicted and telling her warmly about Dr. Browning and his wife Elizabeth. But his mind was not on his words; rather, he was committing to memory every small gesture of Kathryn’s hand as she stirred the pot with a ladle, the way a single strand of hair kept falling into her face and how she brushed it back with her fingers, the way her eyes sparkled blue and grey as she inquired about some off his team’s scientific findings, the ringing of her laughter as he told her about some innocent mishap at the dig site.

As she poured the wine into two mugs and handed him one, he thanked her, then asked her about her own life. She led him back into the living room to sit by the tree, her steaming wine in one hand, plate of caramel brownies in the other. They sat next to each other on the sofa, the plate of brownies on the coffee table in front of them. The room was lit only by the glittering tree lights and the moonlight streaming in through the window. For a moment, Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other in silence. Then Chakotay raised his mug to hers. They clinked glasses.

“Cheers,” Kathryn said.

“Cheers,” Chakotay echoed. He took a sip of the steaming liquid, savoring the fruity, spicy taste. “This is even better than I remember it,” he said.

She nodded. “Somehow the replicator never does it quite right. I’m sure you’ll feel the same way about the brownies.”

He picked one and took a bite. “You’re right.” He grinned and placed the brownie back on the plate. “You know what else is better than I remember?”

“What?”

“Being with you.”

Kathryn blushed and looked away.

Chakotay changed the subject. “You never did answer my question about your life.”

She sighed. “I wish I knew how to answer it. I don’t think Starfleet knows what to do with me. They don’t trust me enough yet to give me another command. There’s been talk of a promotion to admiral but I don’t know if I’d want it, even if it was offered to me. Can you see me sitting behind a desk?”

“What is it that you want to do next?”

“For the first time in my life, Chakotay, I don’t know.” She paused for a moment, watching for her words to have an impact, to shock or surprise him, but he just looked at her intently listening. She had forgotten how much she loved and appreciated this quality of his, his ability to just listen. “My whole life was defined by _Voyager_ for so long, by what was best for the crew, by what was best for everybody else. Now, I don’t have that to think about. I guess I’m supposed to figure out what I want for myself. I don’t know if I know how to do that anymore.”

“You’ll figure it out, Kathryn. You just need time. When the right opportunity comes along, you’ll know.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I think I’ve spent so long trying to forget that I want anything, that I don’t know how to want anything anymore.”

Chakotay nodded. “We had to do what was necessary for a long time, without really thinking about what we wanted. There were a lot of things that, in the Delta Quadrant, I could only admit to myself that I wanted in the privacy of my own quarters on a dark, quiet night.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s hard to get out of that habit.”

“How have you managed it?” she asked.

“Some days I do better than others,” he admitted. “In a way, Starfleet refusing to grant me that field commission was the best thing that ever happened to me, because it forced me to make some choices about my life and what I wanted.”

At the mention of Starfleet, Kathryn flinched. “Chakotay, I know I hurt you. I failed you, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“I think I hurt you, too,” he said hesitantly, “even though that wasn’t my intention.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. 

“With Seven,” he supplied. He searched her eyes to see if he had understood correctly. She nodded. “As for your failure, if you’re talking about Starfleet’s refusal to grant us our field commissions, that wasn’t your fault. As far as I could tell, you did everything you could. Starfleet bowed to political pressure; that’s not your failing. I have a good life and a good job. So do B’Elanna, Dalby, Chell, all of us. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You were the best captain any of us could have asked for, and we’re all grateful to have served under you regardless of the eventual outcome with Starfleet.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He paused, taking a moment to look at the sparkling lights of the Christmas tree and take another sip of his wine. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Kathryn.”

She chuckled. “I feel like I’ve spent so much time trying to make everybody else happy that I don’t know what makes me happy anymore.”

“You’ll find it again,” Chakotay assured her. “You just have to listen.”

“Listen to who?”

“To yourself.”

She mulled this over while she took a bite of a brownie. “What about you, Chakotay? Are you happy?”

“I’m… relatively content. I like my job and the people I work with. My apartment is adequate. In many ways, my life is more stable and comfortable than it’s ever been. But I know that even with all that, there’s something missing. I’d still like to… I’d still like to have someone to share it all with, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Someone whose soul talks to yours,” Kathryn murmured.

“What?”

“That’s what you’re missing. Someone whose soul talks to yours. And someone whose soul can listen to yours, too.”

He studied her, genuine surprise on his face. “I always thought you hadn’t understood what I was talking about.”

“I didn’t really, at the time.”

“I thought I had made a terrible mistake by saying those things to you that night, that I had ruined our friendship for good.” 

“I was thinking earlier today that I was the one who ruined our friendship because of what I said to you that night,” she countered. “But then you showed up.”

He grinned. “Not that easy to get rid of me.” They chuckled and took a sip of wine.

Kathryn became serious again. “I wasn’t ready to hear that from you then.” She reached across the crevasse in between the cushions to take his hand. “But I understand now. As much as you sometimes make me angry or we sometimes disagree, you know me. You see me. Me, the way I really am.”

“Yes.” Chakotay nodded. “And you see me, too. We may completely disagree on the right approach to a problem, but that’s never been the point.”

Kathryn laughed again. “Well…”

Chakotay joined in her laughter. “All right, all right, I know. The point is that you were right anyway.”

“See?” Kathryn replied, still laughing, “you know me!”

“I do,” Chakotay agreed, becoming serious again. “I know all your faults. I know all the things that drive me crazy or make me angry about you.”

“And yet you still want to sit here with me on Christmas Eve.”

Chakotay nodded. “I came all the way from Marlonia to do it.”

“I could’ve thrown you back out into the snow.”

“You could have.” 

“But I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Chakotay,” she said, scooting closer to him on the couch, “I'm glad you came.”

“So am I.” He extended one arm across the back of the sofa, letting his hand fall loosely onto her shoulder. As he did, he felt something jostle in the inside pocket of his blazer. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He removed his arm from around her shoulders and reached into his jacket pocket. He handed her a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Merry Christmas.”

She looked at him, embarrassed. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“How could you? I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

“Fair point.” She looked down at the box, curiosity evident in her features.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he prodded her.

“Oh, all right.” Trying not to let her excitement show, she untied the bow and opened the gold wrapping paper. She felt a giddy joy she had not felt in years at opening a package and knew that this joy had to do not with what was inside, but with the giver of the gift. Discarding the wrapping paper, she opened the thin box and gasped. It was the _Shaleophin_ necklace. She looked up at Chakotay in astonishment. “How did you…”

He was grinning. “Do you like it?”

“Chakotay, it’s beautiful. I saw something like it in a store, but I thought it would be frivolous to get it for myself…” She paused, looking up at him with sudden recognition in her eyes. “It was you. You followed me!”

He laughed. “I was there, but I didn’t follow you. Honestly, Kathryn, I had just landed in San Francisco that morning and wanted to go for a walk. I was shocked when I saw you. I had to go back to my undercover days and blend into the crowd so you wouldn’t see me. I got so distracted watching you that I nearly forgot. That’s when you saw me.”

“Let me get this straight. You decided to take a walk in San Francisco and just happened to end up on the exact same street outside the same store I was in?”

From her tone, he could tell she didn’t believe it. “That’s the whole truth and nothing but. I had no intention on seeing you and I certainly wasn’t following you.”

Kathryn looked down at the shimmering Shaleophin stone. “My mother would probably call that a Christmas miracle,” she quipped, taking the necklace out of the box and holding it up. “I told her miracles don’t exist.” She looked up at Chakotay. “Maybe I was wrong.”

He took the necklace from her, his fingers brushing over hers as he did so. He unclasped it and then fastened it behind her neck. It fit perfectly, the stone sitting just in the center of the v-neck of her dress. “It’s not a miracle, Kathryn,” he said softly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “It’s a choice.”

She nodded, and murmured back, “You are the first and only choice of my soul.” Chakotay’s eyes widened and became misty with unshed tears. Kathryn leaned forward and slowly pressed her lips to his.

Chakotay savored the taste and the feel of Kathryn’s lips. When she broke the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her passionately until they were both breathless. Then she settled against him, wrapped in his arms, feeling content, happy, whole. “You okay?” he asked her softly.

She nodded against him. “More than okay. I think this is one Christmas Eve tradition that needed to be revived.” She paused. “And maybe modified a little bit.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “I think that it could use some new additions. Mulled wine, caramel brownies, and… other things.”

He leaned over to kiss her again. “I think that’s a tradition I could keep up for a very long time.”


End file.
